tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38411900356778791882018-02-08T15:57:33.923-05:00Sex & HorrorShort fiction by Gori Suture: Philosopher, Occult Theorist, and Weaver of Allegories. Featuring Gothic Horror, Pansexual Erotica, and Porn Noir.
Gori Suturehttps://plus.google.com/109931520288832797530noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3841190035677879188.post-21387958643340694622018-02-08T15:57:00.000-05:002018-02-08T15:57:34.249-05:00Metempsychosis - Migration in Six Parts<div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 22.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 22.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rhdujTHNWtk/Wny5EiKrSkI/AAAAAAAAMuI/s86i_959iII_7wX0TL3SYtN1bG1nZJYIgCLcBGAs/s1600/Metempsychosis%2Bheader.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="a rag doll superimposed over a man in anguish" border="0" data-original-height="456" data-original-width="360" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rhdujTHNWtk/Wny5EiKrSkI/AAAAAAAAMuI/s86i_959iII_7wX0TL3SYtN1bG1nZJYIgCLcBGAs/s1600/Metempsychosis%2Bheader.jpg" title="Metempsychosis - Migration in Six Parts by Gori Suture" /></a></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 22.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 22.0pt;"><br /></span></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 22.0pt;"><br /></span></div><h3 style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 22.0pt;">Metempsychosis</span><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 22.0pt;">Migration in Six Parts</span></h3><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p></o:p></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><o:p></o:p></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">I</span><o:p></o:p></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Like a tattered scarecrow Donovan sat slumped in the dusty corner of the deserted church, his shattered form shrouded in shadows, and his arms wrapped tightly around his midsection in a chilled hug.&nbsp; Thin strands of earthen tresses obscured his hollow face; his crystal green eyes encaged the mosaic pattern spilling from the stained glass window onto the stone cold floor.&nbsp; Entranced in mournful thought, he failed to notice the approaching female. </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Like a cat in all its pride, Anna pranced toward him, a black transparent nightgown enhancing the sultry motions of her walk.&nbsp; Burnished auburn hair cascaded gently to her shoulders, partially cloaking her youthful visage.&nbsp; Catching her form from the corner of his eye, Donovan glanced up, at which time, in the midst of her prance, she tripped on her own oversized heels and crashed to the floor.&nbsp; Giggling with embarrassment, she stood up, leaving her shoes lying behind.&nbsp; "Oh my!" she exclaimed, brushing herself off.&nbsp; "Would you look at that?&nbsp; I've gone and gotten my new nightie dirty, and on its first day out."&nbsp; She shook her head lightly back and forth with the realization that there was nothing she could do.&nbsp; "Oh well, let me introduce myself.&nbsp; I'm Anna, and I wanna know what you're doing in this old church."&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The cadaverous man examined the young girl with a light disinterest.&nbsp; "Why are you here?"&nbsp; he echoed with sarcasm." And why are you costumed in your mother's clothes?&nbsp; You look foolish."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I thought you might be lonely.&nbsp; And they're not my mother's clothes; they're mine.&nbsp; I'm a grown woman, and I can wear what I like!"&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Don't be silly.&nbsp; You're a child.&nbsp; You can't be more than six."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I'm not a child," she paused with thought.&nbsp; "But, if you'd like, I can change."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I would appreciate it.&nbsp; I'm not comfortable looking at a half-dressed lass."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I'm a woman!" she retorted as her night gown changed into a flowered sun-dress, "and you're avoiding the question."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The man lowered his eyes from her gaze.&nbsp; The room grew darker as a squadron of cumulonimbus clouds crept over the battle front and into the village.&nbsp; As he searched his mind for words that would not come, he noticed her tiny bare feet.&nbsp; Their milky skin was clean, still retaining a few wrinkles from a recent bath.&nbsp; She sifted the dirt on the floor with her toes, their nails trimmed tightly against the skin revealing how well she had been cared for.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I'm here to die, he whispered in trembling breath.&nbsp; I was stabbed in the war a while ago... see."&nbsp; He unfolded his arms where his once white shirt had stained a deep red.&nbsp; The young girl turned from the bloody mess as he once again folded his arms to cover the gash. The sounds of violence from outside crept into the sanctuary, destroying the uncomfortable thick silence that had pervaded the room, as they both became unnaturally aware of the war's song unfolding.&nbsp; A choir of planes flew low overhead; bombs exploded adding rhythm.&nbsp; Guns fired and a bass line of men lay groaning in harmony.&nbsp; A mother received word of her eldest son's death and sang her screams to the rhythm of the song.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">II</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; An aged mulatto, tiring on his return from the town well, rested on the top step of the war-drenched church. Two wooden buckets filled with semi-clean water sat on the step by his feet.&nbsp; The first drops of rain began ambushing his leathery face, opening his unoccupied eyes.&nbsp; He wiped the rain from them and focused on what was before him, a gold circle sewn to a verdant-grey garb.&nbsp; He followed the path of gold up to a young face topped in a military hat.&nbsp; Recognizing the opposing man, he stood and saluted him.&nbsp; With mud brown eyes the soldier stared coldly at him.&nbsp; The mulatto extended his arms and grasped the soldier's uniform by the shoulders.&nbsp; "Ivan? Ivan, is that you?&nbsp; It's me, your grandfather.&nbsp; Don't you rec..."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A second soldier intervened.&nbsp; As the mulatto was pushed back, his sentence left unfinished, he tripped over the steps and crashed into the church doors.&nbsp; The remaining soldiers surrounded him and brought him to his feet.&nbsp; Three times they beat him against the church.&nbsp; Each time the doors, nearly breaking under the force, trembled with more fear and pity than the previous.&nbsp; He looked up, with fear-filled eyes, at those resembling his own.&nbsp; "No, Ivan, please don't," he begged as a drop of red rain dripped from his lips.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Ivan turned to the general and began to speak in a language unknown to the mulatto.&nbsp; The general, shouting with disapproval, tore the rifle from Ivan's grasp. He placed the barrel tight against the mulatto's stomach, and then forced Ivan's helpless hand onto the cold metal of the gun. The general's muscular grip forced the trigger back as Ivan screamed.&nbsp; The mulatto tensed.&nbsp; His body jerked and then completely relaxed; his eyes stared wide at Ivan.&nbsp; The sour stench of blood and urine filled the winter air. &nbsp;As the rain came it washed away the blood that had splashed onto Ivan's face.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The church doors smashed open, creating an unnaturally peaceful zephyr.&nbsp; A black shadow fell across the mulatto, engulfing him with cold.&nbsp; A female figure robed in black stood in the archway.&nbsp; Blood ran down her cheeks, spilling from the cups that once held her eyes and splashing onto the stone steps.&nbsp; The silken train of her robe swept across the rocks and licked up the red liquid, leaving only a dreamlike stain to mark her attendance.&nbsp; She loomed above the elder and a victorious smile snapped across her twisted countenance.&nbsp; He felt a splash of warmth as blood tainted drool dripped from her fangs and pooled onto his face.&nbsp; At the popping of her knees he knew cold death had pounced upon him.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Soft hands begin to gently stroke back the matted tresses of his hair.&nbsp; He opened his eyes to a silhouetted figure in bright light.&nbsp; "Dear Lord," the words shook from his lips, "thank you, thank you for saving me from that, that demon." He sat up trembling with fear, supporting himself with his weathered hands.&nbsp; "You're an angel?"</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "What?" Anna asked with amusement. "Oh no dear man, I'm not an angel as such, but I am going to escort you on your journey."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "You're Death?" the man asked with shock.&nbsp; "But... but the beast... I thought... You're not frightening... you're a child!"</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Oh dear man, that was just a manifestation of your fears. Perceptions are often deceiving.&nbsp; What you expected to come as a tempest came actually with lullaby whispers and now stands before you with compassion.&nbsp; Now come with me." She extended her hand in invitation, "there is a confused young soldier who needs to talk with you."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Ivan?&nbsp; They killed him?&nbsp; They killed him too?"</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "I'm afraid so.&nbsp; He turned on them.&nbsp; He killed the general and injured two soldiers before his death, but he feels your death was his fault, that maybe he could have done more.&nbsp; He needs to speak with you, to learn you don't blame him."&nbsp; The storm clouds above them had split, and they sat in a single ray of sunshine.&nbsp; "Are you ready to see him?"&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Yes.&nbsp; Oh yes. I know it wasn't his fault.&nbsp; What could he have done?&nbsp; I'm ready to see my grandson.&nbsp; And what of my wife, is she there too?"</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Certainly," Anna answered as she and the mulatto faded to mist and disappeared into the sunlight.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">III</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Inside Donovan stared glassy-eyed at the floor, unaware of anything that had occurred between Anna and the gentleman outdoors.&nbsp; Blood filled spittle had pooled into his mouth.&nbsp; He swallowed harshly, forcing it down the closing caverns of his throat.&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Anna sat down next to him.&nbsp; Tilting her head with compassion, she attempted to console him.&nbsp; "I know it is not me you fear," she spoke in kitten whispers.&nbsp; She searched thoroughly his pale iris for thought, but could discern none.&nbsp; She stared at her own ghostly figure mirrored in his hollow eyes, her weightless form a portraiture of the painted Virgin trapped in the stained glass behind him.&nbsp; Donovan, within his mind, was trapped in the obscurity of a small cellar.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">IV</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The soil drenched smell of wet earth stuffed the caverns of his nose.&nbsp; A ray of light penetrated the pitch through a crack in the ceiling and fell onto his clay covered form.&nbsp;&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>Cold, it's so cold.</i>&nbsp; Thoughts turned through his little boy mind.&nbsp; <i>Mommy, I didn't mean to; it was an accident.&nbsp; I won't do it again.&nbsp; Please let me out.&nbsp; Mommy?&nbsp; Why won't you let me out?&nbsp; Can't you hear me crying, screaming?&nbsp; Why don't you come to me?&nbsp; Mommy?</i>&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Days slumbered silently by, the hunger stayed constant until he grew nearly numb to the pain.&nbsp; Each day of winter grew colder, as daylight became sparse and loneliness devoured him.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>I'm frightened, Mommy.</i> &nbsp;He spoke silently to himself.&nbsp; <i>Each day I can see it more clearly, the beast waiting to taste me.&nbsp; It scares me, Mommy.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Please let me out.&nbsp; I'll be good.</i>&nbsp; Donovan cried hopefully at the opening door as dim light flooded in from above, like the light of an angel, he once thought, like those described in church.&nbsp; His maladjusted eyes could barely identify the figure that each day slipped him a shallow mug of water and a thin slice of bread.&nbsp; <i>Please, Mommy, let me out.&nbsp; I'll be good!&nbsp; Please.&nbsp; It's so lonely down here.</i>&nbsp; But the door would always shut; the light would always slip into black.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>Mommy?</i>&nbsp; Loneliness.&nbsp; Coldness.&nbsp; Hunger.&nbsp; Fear.&nbsp; Eternal, black loneliness.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The memories began to recede; his mind soaked them in like a tear in the sand.&nbsp; As present day devoured the past, his numbed nerves became aware of a similar pain.&nbsp; As his thoughts pushed through the stickiness of his mind, he grew more paranoid of the identical blackness that awaited him, of the cold, dampened earth that would fall upon him, and of the eternal loneliness that would engulf him.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">V</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Donovan jerked back and hit his head on the stone wall, snapping him to reality.&nbsp; In inebriated consciousness he knew what death would bring him, and this he would not accept.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>Fight, I must fight</i>.&nbsp; He struggled with his thoughts.&nbsp; <i>I will not die. I will not be alone.</i></span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She crawled to him and wrapped her arms about him, cradling his form.&nbsp; "You mustn't fight, Donovan."&nbsp; She spoke in lullabies, whispering his name.&nbsp; As if she had heard his thoughts, she spoke about loneliness.&nbsp; How could she know?&nbsp; She could not understand; yet, she assured him all things are not black.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He couldn't trust her.&nbsp; He would not trust her; he must fight fear, black, loneliness.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Close your eyes," she sang, as she gently shut his eyelids with her fingers.&nbsp; A lullaby.&nbsp; She was singing him a lullaby.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>Fight!&nbsp; He must fight!</i>&nbsp; But her arms were so warm.&nbsp; Her words such a sweet hypnosis.&nbsp; Too weak.&nbsp; He could not fight.&nbsp; Warmth.&nbsp; Her arms were so warm.&nbsp; Sleep, devouring sleep.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">VI</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Anna!" the strong southern voice of an aged black lady filled the summer air.&nbsp; Eying the child, Mrs. Hetland approached the great chestnut oak where Anna sat.&nbsp; "Anna Marie, I called you to supper ten minutes ago!&nbsp; Your mamma's gonna skin us both if you don't get in that house."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Anna sat in peppered sunlight in her flowered dress; a rag doll lay at her side.&nbsp; I'm acomin', Mrs. Hetland.&nbsp; Don't you have a hissy now."&nbsp; She stood up from the sand pile that rested beneath the tree and reached down for the doll.&nbsp; "What's for supper tonight?" she spoke as they turned toward the white Victorian house.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Never you mind Miss Anna.&nbsp; You'll find out after you get washed up.&nbsp; Now run on ahead, old bones like mine can't run as fast as young ones like yours."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Anna took off in a trot through the screen door and upstairs to her play room.&nbsp; She moved apart a collection of dolls she kept on the bookshelf in front of the window.&nbsp; Each doll stared soulfully at her; each looked content.&nbsp; She placed the rag doll among them.&nbsp; "Your new home," she spoke.&nbsp; As she started to go down for supper, she glanced back at her new doll.&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Warmth.&nbsp; Friendship.&nbsp; Peace.&nbsp; Anna knew all was well, for across Donovan's cotton face beamed a cherry red smile.</span><o:p></o:p></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Gori Suturehttps://plus.google.com/109931520288832797530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3841190035677879188.post-30227897387042074042018-02-08T15:49:00.000-05:002018-02-08T15:49:07.230-05:00Hymn<div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5drKGStN6KI/Wny1zNeFbQI/AAAAAAAAMt8/4gc0J4g9B0841FN96Ss15Jtuika9Yg-PQCLcBGAs/s1600/Hymn_Header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="artist depiction of a dying man" border="0" data-original-height="468" data-original-width="313" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5drKGStN6KI/Wny1zNeFbQI/AAAAAAAAMt8/4gc0J4g9B0841FN96Ss15Jtuika9Yg-PQCLcBGAs/s1600/Hymn_Header.jpg" title="Hymn, A short story by Gori Suture" /></a></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;"><br /></span></b></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">Hymn</span></b><span style="font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; David, a smile pinning the width of his face, galloped a cheery gait down the high school corridor.&nbsp; With his head held high, his vision lightly skipped across the hundreds of faces that scrutinized him daily.&nbsp; His hair, a mop of burgundy tresses, swayed with his movement.&nbsp; Heavy denim bell bottoms and a baggy flannel shirt added to the oddity of his demeanor.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "David!" a female voice called from behind.&nbsp; "David, wait up." David turned about to see Morgana rushing down the hallway.&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Hola," responded David, poorly faking an accent.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; They stopped in front of the auditorium doors, their drama class awaiting them.&nbsp; She looked up at him. His bewitching gaze affixed to hers, beckoning her to peer back.&nbsp; This she did with great pleasure.&nbsp; She had found him.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She had memorized his schedule.&nbsp; Every day she looked for him, flushed with insecurity.&nbsp; She didn't obsess about finding him, but casually walked in the direction of his upcoming class.&nbsp; She avoided appearing too anxious, but she needed the security he offered her.&nbsp; They shared a secret, and no one else could dare fathom how the two felt.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; One day not long ago, when the thin dry air smelled of orange, red, and yellow leaves toasting in the sunlight, Morgana spoke to David in art class.&nbsp; Their acquaintance was not new; they had been friends for two years, but neither could dismantle the other's pretense.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The memorized lines were spoken.&nbsp; "Did you have a good weekend?"</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Not bad.&nbsp; How 'bout you?"</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; And a simple conversation turned deep.&nbsp; The trembling words fell, tumbled from Morgana's stone lips.&nbsp; "But I'm not 'normal'...&nbsp; I'm...."&nbsp; She paused.&nbsp; Could she trust him?&nbsp; "Ah you," she spoke slowly, tilting her head to one side.&nbsp; She smiled, laughed.&nbsp; His reaction was not to be feared.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "Odd, to put it kindly," He spoke, brushing his hair to one side.&nbsp; "Kinda like me."</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; David seemed the stronger one, despite his dependence.&nbsp; Forever needing a fix, he would use pretty much anything he could get his hands on.&nbsp; This was certainly the reason his dad made him leave home, but David handled it okay.&nbsp; He relished his madness rather than resented it.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Melancholy and timidity, however, were inborn into Morgana's disposition.&nbsp; Their neighbors and peers mocked them both.&nbsp; Morgana despised what they spoke about her, whispers behind her back, and was often quiet vulnerable to the gossip. She feared her madness, and this made her weak.&nbsp; So often David took care of her.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The bell rang and they were late.&nbsp; David withdrew his gaze from hers.&nbsp; Smiling, he pulled open the heavy blue doors and they sauntered inside.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">*&nbsp;&nbsp; *&nbsp;&nbsp; *<span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; On a frigid night, when the new moon hid in shadows, the phone rang at Morgana's house, disturbing her from a near nap.&nbsp; "Hello," she spoke.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A repressed and detached voice responded.&nbsp; "Please come to me," David begged through the receiver.&nbsp; The phone clicked. </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Morgana climbed from her father's recliner and wrapped herself in her winter jacket.&nbsp; She grabbed her keys from the kitchen counter and hastened to David's apartment.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; &nbsp;Upon arrival, she hurried for the porch.&nbsp; The moist night air tasted sweet like black licorice.&nbsp; She rang the door bell and waited.&nbsp; Syrupy, slothful music dripped from the stereo in David's bedroom, oozing out through the cracks around the doorway.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; David did not answer.&nbsp; She pounded on the door with her fist.&nbsp; Still no answer.&nbsp; She tried the door.&nbsp; Unlocked.&nbsp; She pushed the door against the oppressive melody and went inside.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A sliver of lamp light slid from beneath the door to David's room and directed Morgana through the darkness.&nbsp; "David," she called.&nbsp; No answer.&nbsp; As she approached the door she shivered.&nbsp; The song played unnaturally slow, the record player dragging it at a misadjusted speed.&nbsp; Everything moved slowly, almost stopping, straggling with the song.&nbsp; The door to David's bedroom seemed larger and more oblong than before.&nbsp; It was white, too white, clean as if coated with fresh paint.&nbsp; As she pushed the door it felt heavier than before; she actually had difficulty getting the door to move.&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Across the threshold, David, his right side towards the ceiling; his eyes lightly closed, lay naked atop white sheets stained red.&nbsp; His hand gripped tightly a bit of notebook paper.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A torrent of emotion overtook her.&nbsp; Horrified, despondent, and abandoned, a cry plunged from Morgana's lips, and she ran to the edge of the bed.&nbsp; "David, my David!" she wailed in shallow breath.&nbsp; She ran her hand down his arm and clutched his hand in hers, looking for some response across his face.&nbsp; "Please open your eyes, David.&nbsp; I need you."&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Upon hearing her voice his eyes fluttered open.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He was alive.&nbsp; Adrenaline jutted through her body, urging her to get help, but his dark stare pulled her.&nbsp; She didn't want to leave his gaze, so warm and protecting, ever melting reality.&nbsp; It was her sanctuary.&nbsp; But she must look away.&nbsp; His life...he will die!&nbsp; Die!</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "No!" she screeched in jerky spurts.&nbsp; "No. No. No!"&nbsp; She lunged for the phone on the nightstand behind him.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; With a trembling hand, David shoved the paper, all stained with blood, into her face, streaking the red liquid across her cheekbone.&nbsp; She would understand.&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She took the crimson paper from his hand and read.&nbsp; <i>I must die.&nbsp; You feel my pain, you know my torture.&nbsp; You think me to be so strong, but I need you.&nbsp; I can't die alone.&nbsp; Please hold me.&nbsp; I am afraid.</i></span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Morgana returned the receiver to its cradle.&nbsp; The song invaded her, disturbed her, and she knew what must be done.&nbsp; She lay down beside him, facing him, staring into his eyes.&nbsp; She stroked back the matted tresses from his face, traced his perfect visage with her fingers, retaining every detail of her David.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She picked up his right wrist and examined the lengthwise gash, then noted the red laceration above it.&nbsp; She didn't need to see the other, for she knew a rusty nail punctured it.&nbsp; He had been unable to complete the task.&nbsp; She would help him.&nbsp; She would help her David.&nbsp; She loved him, more than anything.&nbsp; She would please him.&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He was beautiful, despite his paling complexion.&nbsp; His languid lips compelled her to kiss him. He responded, entangling his tongue with hers.&nbsp; She desired to be with him, one more time, her beautiful man.&nbsp; She pulled his shivering form close, burying him in her bosom.&nbsp; "My David, I'll care for you," she mumbled, pulling a heavy quilt from the bottom of the bed up about them both.&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; His eyes closed, then opened, closed again, the weight of his lids too much for him.&nbsp; Hot, so hot, then cold, hot again, cold.&nbsp; His chest was heavy, pressing on his lungs, making breathing difficult.&nbsp; His fingers, toes, then arms and legs tingled, numbing.&nbsp; Time.&nbsp; Time slowly passing.&nbsp; Fleeting hotness.&nbsp; Dizziness.&nbsp; Increasing numbness.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The record skipped, repeating itself, repeating itself, repea...numbness, weakness, his breath increasingly shallow.&nbsp; Numbness.&nbsp; Blackness.&nbsp; Death.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He was fascinating and handsome in his death, like a stillborn baby to a mourning, new mother.&nbsp; She released her embrace and yanked the stereo cord from the outlet.&nbsp; The song slowed to a stop.&nbsp; She curled up close to him, forgetting his death.&nbsp; She closed her eyes and held him, trying to ignoring the tick, ticking of the clock.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The promise, she must fulfill it.&nbsp; She opened her eyes, pushed back the covers, stood up, and gently rolled his body onto its back, spreading his arms out wide and pulling his feet close together.&nbsp; She picked up the hammer from beside the bed and took a nail from the nearby mason jar.&nbsp; Morgana fixed the rusty point of the nail tightly against his sticky flesh.&nbsp; Hauling the hammer back, she drove the metal into the flesh and bone.&nbsp; With continuing blows she forced it through the marrow and out the other side.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She stood back, stared at him, and then spoke calmly, "I can't leave his nakedness exposed."&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She shrouded him from waist down with a sheet, and then opened his closed eyes wide.&nbsp; She walked to his antique dresser, and picked up a Polaroid camera.&nbsp; "You look beautiful," she muttered and snapped a series of shots.&nbsp; </span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; With a metallic silver pen Morgana printed unrecognizable gibberish across them.&nbsp; The final photo, however, was incomplete in its development.&nbsp; As she pushed the photos into an inner pocket of her jacket, the ink reacted to the process and vicious black lines burned into David's perfect form, a cruel joke.</span><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She turned from the cadaver and ambled through David's heavy doorway and out the apartment entrance.&nbsp; The edifice loomed against the night sky, as if it might very well fall on her and crush her.&nbsp; She climbed into her vehicle and turned the key; the old car didn't want to start.&nbsp; "Come on," she encouraged her motor and tried again with success.&nbsp; She turned the radio to a local station and drove towards home.&nbsp; As she came to a stop sign at the end of the road a blue Pinto sped by.&nbsp; David's roommate, she noted.&nbsp; She watched in the mirror as the taillights grew smaller and then disappeared.&nbsp; The radio whispered the first notes to David's song.&nbsp; She had grown tired of it.&nbsp; She fumbled for the small black knob and turned the station.</span><o:p></o:p></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Gori Suturehttps://plus.google.com/109931520288832797530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3841190035677879188.post-6112786768066658702018-02-08T14:39:00.001-05:002018-02-08T15:20:53.348-05:00Blue<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zmV8ZuhSXkw/WnymgF0U9ZI/AAAAAAAAMto/l7wzSO6DXEsOgo2GAkbdip9rLYGLV4mfwCLcBGAs/s1600/blue%2Bheader.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="picture of a blue teddy bear with guts" border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="360" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zmV8ZuhSXkw/WnymgF0U9ZI/AAAAAAAAMto/l7wzSO6DXEsOgo2GAkbdip9rLYGLV4mfwCLcBGAs/s1600/blue%2Bheader.jpg" title="Blue, A Tragedy by Gori Suture" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><h2 style="text-align: center;">Blue</h2><br /><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Emy was lost, lost in water droplets of translucent crimson, which sparkled like rubies in the sunlight.&nbsp; She watched them, drop after drop, as each one rolled down her skin, dawdled on her breasts, and then crashed onto her teddy bear Blue's drenched coat.&nbsp; There was red everywhere -- streaked across the floor, on the walls, streaming down the shower drain.&nbsp; Emy felt a hollow aching that left her trembling with despair as she looked into the wanting eyes of her Blue.&nbsp; <i>Oh Blue, poor Blue, all covered in blood</i>, she thought.&nbsp; She cradled his head in her lap and caressed his soiled face.&nbsp; <i>My Blue.&nbsp; </i>The red was everywhere -- in his hair, on his face, in his clothes.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Sirens trilled in shrill alarm, the fervor of their panic ever intensifying as they came closer and closer.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">As Emy reached for the shampoo bottle, she heard muffled voices somewhere nearby, but she stayed focused on the task at hand.&nbsp; She snapped the bottle open and filled her palm with its gooey contents.&nbsp; She covered Blue's eyes with a washcloth and worked his hair into a pink lather.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">A loud crash brought the voices closer.&nbsp; They grew louder and more frantic, and suddenly, the bathroom door was bashed open. &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The officers just stood there with their jaws agape -- staring, just staring.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Emy darted her eyes from cop to cop and whispered, "I, I can't -- I can't get the blood out of his hair."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">*&nbsp;&nbsp; *&nbsp;&nbsp; *<o:p></o:p></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Fading sunlight spilled through an open window.&nbsp; The curtains, a colorful mosaic like a patchwork quilt, stirred in a chilling breeze.&nbsp; Mischievous crickets delighted in the coming dusk.&nbsp; Whippoorwills and ravens chirped and twittered their goodnights.&nbsp; Emy lay withered across the width of her childhood bed with her tear stained face buried in Blue's belly.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She couldn't believe it happened two nights ago.&nbsp; It felt like seconds ago.&nbsp; Oh God, did she hurt, like he was still inside her, raping her, raping her, raping her.&nbsp; His skin was white, never knowing the sun, and his eyes were pale like the milked over pupil of a dead fish.&nbsp; He had painted his face, and his eyebrows were shaved.&nbsp; He looked like some vulgar drag queen.&nbsp; Straggled strands of grease black hair hung about his frightful mug, and he had slowly dragged them across her face, teasing her flesh.&nbsp; She wanted to swat them away so badly, but he held her down.&nbsp; He wore a leather coat.&nbsp; He unzipped his jeans.&nbsp; She noticed that the bottom of his T-shirt had come unhemmed.&nbsp; Then he --<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>Stop it!&nbsp; Stop it!&nbsp; Stop it!&nbsp; Stop thinking about it.&nbsp; Just push it away.&nbsp; Push it away, </i>she thought.&nbsp; She stared at her distorted reflection in the blackness of Blue's eyes.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">She thought about when her mother had died.&nbsp; It was a bad winter that year.&nbsp; Her mother's car had hit a patch of ice and slid off the road into a pond.&nbsp; They searched and searched for her, but a fresh snow had hidden all signs of the accident.&nbsp; Three days later, her mommy's frozen cadaver was finally pulled from its watery grave.&nbsp; Her father, destroyed with grief, gave no comfort, but Blue, Blue was there, ready to absorb her little girl tears.&nbsp; And when her first love, Sean, dumped her at the prom, she went home to the loving arms of her Blue. Blue was always there. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; She hugged Blue tightly and wept into the belly of her only friend.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">*&nbsp;&nbsp; *&nbsp;&nbsp; *<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Emy must have dozed off, for she awoke in darkness shivering with cold, yet she felt sick with heat -- sticky and sick to her stomach with a dull ache in her head.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The clock displayed "1:24" in red.&nbsp; She fumbled for the lamp.&nbsp; As she sat up on her knees, the mattress springs pushed into her tender flesh.&nbsp; Every muscle in her body resisted and begged her to lie back down.&nbsp; She shut the window and locked it.&nbsp; She pressed her forehead against the clear pane and watched the stars become hazy with her steaming breath.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Time promised to heal all wounds, yet it slipped by so agonizingly slow.&nbsp; She pulled the drapes together and fell back against the mattress.&nbsp;&nbsp;She held her breath for a moment and then exhaled with a sigh.&nbsp; She unbuttoned her jeans and worked them off.&nbsp; She covered herself with the quilts.&nbsp; She pressed her feet against the footboard -- first the right one, then the left one, right, left, right.&nbsp; She felt so cold.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <i>You like it.&nbsp; Say it.&nbsp; You like it. </i>&nbsp;The words echoed through her mind.&nbsp; His voice was so harsh and deep.&nbsp; He had dragged his hair across her face.&nbsp; <i>No!&nbsp; </i>her mind screamed.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"My life is over," she whispered.&nbsp; She snorted and swallowed snot.&nbsp; <i>Blue, where is Blue? </i><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><i>S</i>he had knocked the teddy bear into the floor.&nbsp; She reached out and grabbed the stubby figure by its head.&nbsp; Her fingers sank into his cotton form; his silky fur tickled and soothed her skin.&nbsp; She curled up with Blue and buried her face in his belly.&nbsp; She had dressed him in a dirty flannel shirt belonging to her husband, Lucas.&nbsp; She inhaled deeply, breathing in her husband's sweat and cologne.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><i>You like it.&nbsp; Say it.&nbsp; You like it. </i>&nbsp;The words echoed through her mind.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Lucas had watched helplessly, desperately, as the man had raped her.&nbsp; He had begged him to stop, to just please stop.&nbsp; She rubbed the sickly white skin where her engagement ring and wedding band had been just two days ago.&nbsp; <i>Why did he have to take them?</i>&nbsp; Her mouth felt dry.&nbsp; Her stomach cramped.&nbsp; She leaned off the bed and hung her head over the trashcan.&nbsp; She tried to hold it down, but she puked anyway, missing the trashcan and spewing bile down her chin and onto the floor.&nbsp; She heaved again and again, even though she had nothing left in her stomach. &nbsp;She wiped her face on a quilt.&nbsp; She bit her lip, bringing blood; it stole the taste from her tongue and left emptiness.&nbsp; <i>How can I go on?&nbsp; </i>she thought.&nbsp; She closed her eyes, buried her face in Blue, and flooded his belly with tears.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">She wanted to die.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Emy picked up her wedding picture from the nightstand.&nbsp; Why had her father put it there?&nbsp; Its ornate silver frame reflected her stretched and misshapen visage.&nbsp; Lucas smiled at her with his baby face all lit up with a child's delight.&nbsp; She felt enraged and yelled, "Smile!&nbsp; Smile, goddamnit!&nbsp; Go ahead.&nbsp; Laugh!&nbsp; You think it's just so funny don't you?&nbsp; How could you leave me at a time like this?&nbsp; You fucking son of a bitch!&nbsp; You goddamn bastard!&nbsp; I hate you!&nbsp; I hate you.&nbsp; I'm glad you're gone!"&nbsp; She hurled the photograph at the wall, shattering it.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; "No!"&nbsp;she yelled.&nbsp; She jumped from the bed and fell to her knees.&nbsp; Shards of glass bit into her flesh.&nbsp; "I'm sorry.&nbsp; I'm so sorry," she cried as she rescued the photo from the broken glass.&nbsp; "I didn't mean it.&nbsp; I just can't take it anymore.&nbsp; I just want it all to go away."&nbsp; She picked up a piece of the jagged glass.&nbsp; <i>I want to go away</i>, she thought. &nbsp;She looked down at her wrists, still black and blue from the rapist's grip.&nbsp; She envisioned cutting away those bruises, washing them away with her own hot blood.&nbsp; She could see it, and she wanted it.&nbsp; It would all be over.&nbsp; The nightmare would end.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><i>Not like this</i>, she thought.&nbsp; <i>Lucas couldn't stomach the sight of blood.</i>&nbsp; She couldn't slit her wrists, but the happy pills the hospital gave her would be perfect.&nbsp; She pulled the bottle of pills from the nightstand drawer.&nbsp; She took the bottle of water from the nightstand, gobbled up all of the pills, and curled up with her Blue.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Her limbs tingled and went numb.&nbsp; All the colors of heaven and earth swirled together, becoming thick and black like tar, and as the room faded to black, life gave way to something resembling a dream or a memory, but more like hell.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">*&nbsp;&nbsp; *&nbsp;&nbsp; *<o:p></o:p></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Emy and Lucas took off their shoes and trotted hand in hand up and down the edge of the frigid water as the sun peaked over the horizon.&nbsp; She saw a great big sand dollar being washed out to sea, and she wanted it.&nbsp; Lucas took off after it, catching it about knee deep in the surf.&nbsp; He looked up and smiled, holding up the treasure.&nbsp; He tipped his head to one side, and the ocean wind tousled his hair.&nbsp;&nbsp;She looked at him, soaking up his essence, because she couldn't remember a day he'd looked more beautiful.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Lucas gave her the sand dollar, and they sat down in the sand.&nbsp; "Emy, my princess," he said as he nuzzled her hair.&nbsp; "I can't stand to see you like this anymore.&nbsp; You've got to let this go."&nbsp; He brushed her hair from her face and then kissed her deeply.&nbsp; She had forgotten how sweet he tasted.&nbsp; "This is wrong," he said.&nbsp; "Don't do this."&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">His form became transparent, and like a vapor in a gentle wind, he began to fade away.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"No!&nbsp; Please don't leave.&nbsp; Please!&nbsp; Please!"&nbsp; Emy yelled as the tears welled up in her eyes.&nbsp; She could smell salt like the blood of innocence.&nbsp; The sounds of the sea rushed up to devour the sand. &nbsp;"Please?" <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Alone, Emy walked away from the sea, and she traversed the distance of myriad miles in the blink of an eye with dreamlike precision.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">She walked down an alley.&nbsp; Hidden in the shadows of two dumpsters, a shrunken old man sat scrunched up against the moist bricks of a Chinese restaurant.&nbsp; The pungent smell of must and stale food crept from the bins and hung thick in the thin air.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Emy didn't notice the man as she walked past him.&nbsp; A bird flew towards her from the shadows where the man hid.&nbsp; It squawked as it nearly crashed into her, causing her to turn about and face the direction of the fowl attack.&nbsp; That's when she saw the old man.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">He had left the security of his shadows and now stood not six feet from her.&nbsp; Six doves were perched on his head and shoulders.&nbsp; His leathery visage was dark, the color of burnt sienna.&nbsp; His forehead was exaggerated by receding gray hair that just touched his shoulders.&nbsp; One eye was noticeably larger than the other and sat shallow in its socket, ready to slide from his face onto the pavement.&nbsp; Quite the opposite, his other eye was burrowed deep into his skull and was sealed in with blood stained matter.&nbsp; "Come here," he spoke in a raspy whisper, his voice reminiscent of her rapist's voice, for he was rape incarnate.&nbsp; "I've got something for you."&nbsp; He held out her engagement ring and wedding band.&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Emy felt unusually calm as she walked towards the demon.&nbsp; "Lucas," she whispered, as she reached for the rings.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The man closed his hand before she could snatch them.&nbsp; "You miss him don't you?&nbsp; You miss him so badly that it hurts every fiber of your being.&nbsp; You just want the emptiness to stop.&nbsp; That's why you took the pills, isn't it?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Yes." <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"I may have hurt you, but you still want your precious Lucas to fuck you again, don't you."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Yes."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Only a whore loves cock.&nbsp; Are you a whore, Emy?"&nbsp; The old man unzipped himself and pulled out his semi-stiff, wrinkled prick.&nbsp; He grabbed her by the wrist and placed her hand on his dick, which radiated heat like the fires of hell.&nbsp; She wanted to pull her hand away, but she froze like a deer in headlights.&nbsp; "With this ring, I thee wed," he said and slid the band onto her finger.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">She had to wake up, had to get out, had to run from the hell this demon was taking her to.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: center;">*&nbsp;&nbsp; *&nbsp;&nbsp; *<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Emy awoke, disoriented, in the shower.&nbsp; The water was scalding, but boiling wasn't hot enough to burn off the pain.&nbsp; The steam was so thick that she couldn't breathe.&nbsp; She was in the floor, with her back pressed against the wall.&nbsp; &nbsp;There was a weight upon her lap, and when she looked down the air rushed from her lungs with a guttural moan. "Oh Lucas, poor Lucas!" she cried.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Emy!&nbsp; Don't do this to yourself.&nbsp; Not again."&nbsp; It was the disembodied voice of Lucas, calling to her through the either, if only she would listen.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">She was lost, lost in water droplets of translucent crimson, which sparkled like rubies in the sunlight.&nbsp; She watched them, drop after drop, as each one rolled down her skin, dawdled on her breasts, and then crashed onto her –<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><i>It's not my Lucas</i>, she thought.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Lucas receded. &nbsp;His sleek, muscular form turned plush, as his long extremities became stubbed.&nbsp; His skin sprouted soft blue fur. &nbsp;His head took on the soggy shape of a pillow.&nbsp; His ears became flat and floppy.&nbsp; His nose took on a cartoonish quality.&nbsp; Finally, his dead eyes became black plastic buttons and she didn't see Lucas anymore.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">&nbsp;Lost in water droplets, Emy watched drop after drop, as each one rolled down her skin, dawdled on her breasts, and then crashed onto her teddy bear Blue's drenched coat.&nbsp; There was red everywhere -- streaked across the floor, on the walls, streaming down the shower drain.&nbsp; Emy felt a hollow aching that left her trembling with despair as she looked into the wanting eyes of her Blue.&nbsp; <i>Oh Blue, poor Blue, all covered in blood</i>, she thought.&nbsp; She cradled his head in her lap and caressed his soiled face.&nbsp; <i>My Blue.&nbsp; </i>The red was everywhere -- in his hair, on his face, in his clothes.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Sirens trilled in shrill alarm, the fervor of their panic ever intensifying as they came closer and closer.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">As Emy reached for the shampoo bottle, she heard muffled voices somewhere nearby, but she stayed focused on the task at hand.&nbsp; She snapped the bottle open and filled her palm with its gooey contents.&nbsp; She covered Blue's eyes with a washcloth and worked his hair into a pink lather.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">A loud crash brought the voices closer.&nbsp; They grew louder and more frantic, and suddenly, the bathroom door was bashed open. &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The officers just stood there with their jaws agape -- staring, just staring.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Emy darted her eyes from cop to cop and whispered, "I, I can't -- I can't get the blood out of his hair."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"My God, half his gut is missing!" one of the cops said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><div style="text-align: justify;">This<em><span style="font-style: normal;"> tragedy was inscribed in the very brick and mortar, and i</span></em>t was here Emy was doomed to dwell, a damned soul on repeat for infinity, unable to let go and pass on, caught in an unending loop.&nbsp; Lucas was tucked away, eternally hidden by Blue's obscuring devotion, faithful and unending.&nbsp; They were best friends forever.<o:p></o:p></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%;"><br /></div>Gori Suturehttps://plus.google.com/109931520288832797530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3841190035677879188.post-68343246602026864902017-12-14T16:23:00.000-05:002018-02-08T15:24:32.923-05:00Till Death Do Us Part<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5b8_B5NKoo0/WjLp6k7XQcI/AAAAAAAAMtY/5Ijy6GPDx2QYPxX-h6eRFhCiHBrgOGK5wCEwYBhgL/s1600/Till%2BDeath%2BDo%2BUs%2BPart%2Bheader.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="396" data-original-width="306" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5b8_B5NKoo0/WjLp6k7XQcI/AAAAAAAAMtY/5Ijy6GPDx2QYPxX-h6eRFhCiHBrgOGK5wCEwYBhgL/s320/Till%2BDeath%2BDo%2BUs%2BPart%2Bheader.jpg" width="247" /></a></div><br /><br /><h1 style="text-align: center;">Till Death Do Us Part<o:p></o:p></h1><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill felt uneasy as he walked up the steps to Lucas and Adelaide's house.&nbsp; They had decorated for Halloween, and a skeleton grinned at him as it flopped in a violent wind, dancing to the dissonant symphony of myriad wind chimes.&nbsp; Strings of novelty lights bobbed about, casting shadows like playful spirits.&nbsp; A black cat swirled about his feet, trilling and mewing, as he fumbled for the right key.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He pushed the door open and walked inside.&nbsp; The house hummed with the comforting waterfall of an aquarium pump.&nbsp; He hadn't been there since last Christmas, that fated day that resulted in the near death of his daughter, and the imprisonment of his deranged wife, Elise.&nbsp; He almost said no, but after all Lucas and Adelaide had done for him, he felt obligated to house sit while they visited Lucas's father on his deathbed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The cat stood at the threshold.&nbsp; "Hey, Morpheus, are you coming inside?" The cat looked up at him and meowed, but made no effort to join him.&nbsp; "Well fuck you, then."&nbsp; He shut the door in the cat's face.&nbsp; He locked both the knob and the dead bolt, and then he flipped the light switch.&nbsp; The foyer lit up but for a moment before the bulb popped off.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Fiery eyes peered from the blackness above.&nbsp; Elise loomed like a banshee at the top of the stairs.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill gasped.&nbsp; "How'd you get here?&nbsp; You're supposed to be in jail!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Elise stared through him in silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Answer me!"&nbsp; As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he exhaled with a sigh of relief.&nbsp; Adelaide had used the old mannequin that Bill had gotten dumpster diving for a Halloween decoration, and its eyes were reflecting moonlight from the window.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He felt drawn to it, as if it awaited his return home with a tender kiss for him, like the loving bride his wife could never be.&nbsp; He climbed the stairs and stood before it.&nbsp; He gazed into its orange eyes and remembered the day Elise had created it.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">It was Christmas Eve.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">EEENK EEENK EEENK!&nbsp; The alarm clock had violated Bill's sweat dreams with 7 am.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">&nbsp;"Get up!"&nbsp; Elise had said, shaking him, the flab of fat on her arm jiggling like Jell-O.&nbsp; "Turn that damn thing off!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">A few months earlier, Elise had been fired from Corners, a chain bookstore.&nbsp; Now they lived in the guest bedroom at Lucas and Adelaide's house, and Bill felt their welcome wearing thin.&nbsp; He felt depressed and didn't want to get out of bed, but he did anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He drove to work in a 1978 Toyota Tercel.&nbsp; As he reached the machine's top speed of fifty miles per hour, he prayed the band stickers would hold the rusty body together.&nbsp; He arrived five minutes late, and a woman wearing too much perfume told him he was skating on thin ice.&nbsp; He was an assistant manager at Zaftig Apparel, a woman's clothing store selling yesterday's hot fashions in plus sizes at bargain prices.&nbsp; He had no problem telling old fatties how fantastic they looked, and thus he made a small fortune for someone he didn't know.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">After Bill left for work, Elise went back to sleep and didn't wake again until noon.&nbsp; She read a book until dusk and then went downstairs to take a shower and dye her blond roots black and red to match the rest of her hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Hey, Elise," Lucas said, "do you think you could help me with the dishes?&nbsp; Christmas is tomorrow, and the house is a mess."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"I just did the dishes last night."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"What?"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"I washed the bowl and spoon I used, the rest is Bill's.&nbsp; Get him to wash them."&nbsp; She went into the living room and flipped on the TV.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas wondered why he kept helping his ungrateful friends.&nbsp; He still hadn't finished the dishes when his wife, Adelaide, arrived home from work. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"There is no hell like working retail during Christmas," </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Adelaide</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> said and fell like Goliath onto the couch.&nbsp; She kicked her shoes off with her feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas leaned down and kissed her cheek.&nbsp; "I fixed you some chicken, if you're hungry."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Thanks, doll."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas went to the kitchen to get Adelaide some food.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"How are you today, Elise?"&nbsp; Adelaide said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Elise rolled her eyes.&nbsp; "Bored.&nbsp; I wish Bill would take me somewhere.&nbsp; I'm sick of being in this house."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Maybe you should learn to drive, Elise, you know?&nbsp; Then you could get a job."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"If we didn't live out in bum fuck, I could get a job I could walk to."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill looked exhausted as he walked in with his two-year-old daughter, Ava, on his back.&nbsp; She had been staying with his mother since they lost their apartment.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Did today suck or what?"&nbsp; Adelaide said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">“Yeah.&nbsp; We were so busy,” Bill agreed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas brought Adelaide the plate of chicken and a glass of milk.&nbsp; She set up so she could eat, and he sat down on the couch beside her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Are you looking forward to Santa Claus coming tomorrow, Ava?"&nbsp; Lucas asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ava's eyes widened and her face lit up with delight.&nbsp; She bounced with excitement.&nbsp; "Santa!&nbsp; Santa bwings toys!" she exclaimed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Awww, that's so cute!"&nbsp; Adelaide said.&nbsp; A horrible screeching noise like nails on a chalkboard came from the window.&nbsp; "Somebody let the cat in."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas went to the front door and let Morpheus inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Morpheus raced him to the couch, nearly tripping him, and jumped up beside Adelaide.&nbsp; He begged for chicken, and, failing that, he rubbed his head against her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Stop being a nuisance," Lucas said.&nbsp; He picked up the cat and sat down with him.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Sweetheart," Bill said, "would you get me a candy cane off the tree?"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"God, Bill, you're so lazy," Elise said.&nbsp; "It's just across the room.&nbsp; Get up and get it yourself."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill puffed his cheeks out like a frog about to croak.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas looked at Bill as if to say, where's your balls, man?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill made a poof noise with his lips as the air escaped them.&nbsp; "I'm sick of you treating me this way," he said, his voice almost a whisper.&nbsp; "I bust my ass for this family, and all you do is belittle me and ridicule me.&nbsp; You insult the music I write, and you won't even get a fucking job."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Elise contorted her face into a ridiculous gesture of affliction.&nbsp; She crossed her arms and whined, "You don't love me."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Elise, just look at yourself, not only are you a lazy bitch, you're fat," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Take it back!" she yelled.&nbsp; She pulled back her fist, and punched him hard in the stomach.&nbsp; He crumpled over.&nbsp; She hit him again in the face and head, pounding on him like a raving lunatic, until Lucas and Adelaide pulled her off him.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ava cried.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"You're a fucking psycho!"&nbsp; Bill said as his tears streaked through the blood on his face.&nbsp; "In front of Ava!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"I hate you!" </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Elise</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> screamed and ran upstairs.&nbsp; She slammed the door shut behind her and locked it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She put on The Electric Hellfire Club's <em>Satan's Little Helpers</em> and cranked the volume.&nbsp; She ran her fingers through the mannequin's luxurious blond hair.&nbsp; Bill had salvaged it to use as a stage prop if he ever got his act together enough to play live.&nbsp; When he first brought it home, he had gushed over the piece of trash as if it was his new bride.&nbsp; Elise pulled a plastic tub of art supplies from the closet.&nbsp; She took a pair of scissors and chopped off its locks down to its plastic scalp.&nbsp; Then she whacked off her own hair and glued it to the head.&nbsp; It matted down against the scalp in some places, and frizzed and tangled in others.&nbsp; Her own hair, now short, jagged, and uneven, made her look insane.&nbsp; Then, she gouged out its eyes with a utility knife and glued tiger's eye stones in their places.&nbsp; She painted its face up as she painted her own.&nbsp; She cut a slit in its mouth, and inserted Halloween vampire fangs inside.&nbsp; She clipped her own black fingernails and toenails and glued them in place on the mannequin's body.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She took off her clothes, a stereotypical goth dress and a poorly made corset bought from the chain store at the mall.&nbsp; She lit incense and black candles on her altar to Satan, and then she returned her attention to the life size doll lying on the floor before her.&nbsp; With the utility knife, she carved a Tetragrammaton into its chest.&nbsp; Then, she cut the palm of her hand.&nbsp; She muttered an incantation as she squeezed her hand and dripped blood into the doll's mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"In the name of Satan, I give you life," she said, and, then, she leaned over her creation and put her mouth over its mouth, smearing her own lips with blood as she exhaled her breath into it.&nbsp; "In the name of Satan, I command you to rise!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The door shook as someone tried to enter.&nbsp; "Elise, I'm sorry!&nbsp; Come on, open up!"&nbsp; Bill said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Elise rose from the floor, walked over to the door, and flung it open.&nbsp; She stood naked before Bill.&nbsp; She licked her bloody mouth as if to seduce him.&nbsp; Her nipples, large and splotchy, stood erect.&nbsp; Her blond pubic hair betrayed the dye job of her now butchered hair.&nbsp; Her pale skin looked to have never seen the sun.&nbsp; She had always been fat, but she had gained so much weight while pregnant, if he wanted to fuck her now, he'd have to fold the flabs of fat until he smelled shit and then fold back one, or maybe he could just dip her in flour and aim for the wet spot. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"My God!&nbsp; What have you done?" he said with his mouth hanging agape.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"I made something for you," she said.&nbsp; "You can use it on stage when you're a big rock-and-roll star."&nbsp; She laughed at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Cut it out!&nbsp; For Ava's sake, let's try to get along while she's here.&nbsp; Adelaide said she'd watch Ava, let's go out for a beer and talk."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Fuck you, Bill!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Whatever.&nbsp; I'm going out."&nbsp; He stomped down the stairs and out the front door.&nbsp; He didn't come back until he smelled like cheap perfume and sex.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The memory left him feeling jittery and alone.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"> &nbsp;<em>Damn, that thing is creepy,</em> Bill thought, looking at the mannequin.&nbsp; He wished he didn’t have to turn his back on the thing to go back downstairs.&nbsp; As he descended, he felt as if someone, or something, watched him.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He grabbed a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup from the candy dish by the front door.&nbsp; Lucas and Adelaide never had trick-or-treaters there anyway.&nbsp; He stuffed the candy into his mouth, walked to the kitchen, and put a kettle of water on to boil.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">His heart sank when he saw the photograph of his daughter hanging in a magnetic frame on the refrigerator.&nbsp; He remembered the day of her accident in vivid detail.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">&nbsp;It was Christmas day.&nbsp; A light snow fell.&nbsp; Numerous beautifully wrapped packages were piled beneath the twinkling tree.&nbsp; The air had smelled delicious as Adelaide and her sister, Molly, had whizzed about the kitchen whipping up mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits, and pumpkin pies.&nbsp; Their mother, Leena, had cooked the ham at her house and then brought it over.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas had built a fire while Leena played Christmas carols on the piano.&nbsp; Ava had sung along, "Away in a mangor no cwib foor a bed, da wittle word Jesus way down his tweet head."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Elise had awoken early and poured herself a glass of wine.&nbsp; After the third glass, she started drinking straight from the bottle.&nbsp; Then she took a shower.&nbsp; She played Tori Amos at full volume, belting out the lyrics in an inharmonious duet, draining the merriment from all who heard her as surely as she emptied the hot water heater.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill got up late enough to miss the musical stylings of his melodramatic wife.&nbsp; He had prayed in vain Elise wouldn't make a scene.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"How could you!" she spat at him as soon as he came down the stairs.&nbsp; Her eyes were bloodshot with tears.&nbsp; "And with a stripper!&nbsp; My husband fucked a stripper!"&nbsp; She ran outside, her wine bottle still clutched in her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Lucas followed her outside, calling her name.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She ran from him, around the house, screaming at the top of her lungs, "I'll kill him!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He finally caught up to her, and took hold of her by the shoulders as if to shake some sense into her.&nbsp; He looked into her eyes.&nbsp; "Elise, you have got to calm down, or someone is going to call the cops."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Fuck you!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Her flippancy infuriated him.&nbsp; "Fuck me?&nbsp; What the fuck have I done but be nice to you?&nbsp; You can just find yourself another place to live!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">She jerked away from him and ran back inside the house through the back door.&nbsp; She darted through the crowded kitchen and into the living room.&nbsp; She charged at Bill.&nbsp; She swung her bottle of wine at him, spilling wine all over the gifts.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Shit!" he said and ducked just in time.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"You son of a bitch!"&nbsp; She threw him across the coffee table.&nbsp; "I hate you!&nbsp; I hate you!" she screamed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Uh-oh!&nbsp; Daddy's got a boo boo," Ava said and ran to her father.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Get away from him!"&nbsp; She flung Ava off her father.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Ava flew back.&nbsp; She tripped over the hearth and fell into the fire.&nbsp; She shrieked, sounding like a squealing pig, as her hair caught ablaze and her flesh melted.&nbsp; Bill ran to her and pulled her out, but she already looked like a cheap wiener cooked on an open flame.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Morpheus scratched frantically at the window.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"Call 911," someone yelled.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill stroked his daughter's good cheek.&nbsp; "Please angel, don't die," he said.&nbsp; "I'm lost without the sanctuary I find in your eyes.&nbsp; Each breath I take without you is a thousand years in hell."&nbsp; He lost himself in her good eye, so big and beautiful.&nbsp; There were no sufficient words to describe what he felt.&nbsp; He felt as if his own image had been burned, as if his own soul sizzled with guilt.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Elise felt the same jealousy towards Ava she'd felt towards the stripper.&nbsp; She burst into tears.&nbsp; "Why don't you love me?" she cried.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">&nbsp;As the memory washed over Bill, a tear ran down his face as he looked at the photograph.&nbsp; Even with half her face charred off, Ava had smiled for the camera.&nbsp; She didn't yet understand the extent of her injuries.&nbsp; Being blind in one eye seemed bad enough, but the disfigurement would haunt her for life.&nbsp; Just yesterday, Bill had taken her out to eat at McDonalds.&nbsp; As they were leaving, he'd overheard a teenage boy say, "Thank god vomit face is leaving.&nbsp; I don't think I could look at that while I eat."&nbsp; His group of friends had cackled at the comment.&nbsp; Bill wanted to walk over and punch him, but he pretended he didn't hear them instead.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He went into the living room, plopped down on the sofa, and flipped on the news.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The wind flapped the news lady's coat about violently, but her plastic hair stayed perfect.&nbsp; "Three women escaped from High County Women's Correctional Facility today, killing six guards and starting a riot that is yet to be brought under control.&nbsp; One of the women, Betty Dooglebee, was shot dead by one of the police.&nbsp; As most of you will remember, she was the infamous registered nurse serving a life sentence for running into a homeless man while high on marijuana and ecstasy.&nbsp; She then drove home with the man, Toby Fletcher, still hanging from her windshield.&nbsp; She let him bleed to death in her garage, and then she and two accomplices dumped his body in Goose Creek Park.&nbsp; Isabella Donna, a convicted pedophile, has been recaptured and is being questioned at this time.&nbsp; One, as of yet unidentified prisoner, did escape.&nbsp; High County Police advise all to lock their doors and windows and not answer the door for strangers.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The hair rose on the back of Bill's neck.&nbsp; He felt as if someone trampled across his grave.&nbsp; That unease he had felt as he arrived, he had smelled the faint scent of Manic Panic hair dye.&nbsp; <em>Only Elise would make sure she had hair dye in jail,</em> he thought, <em>and she's here now, hiding.</em><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He muted the television, then went to the kitchen and took a butcher knife from the block.&nbsp; He held the knife up high like Laurie Strode as he tiptoed through the house.&nbsp; He checked the back door.&nbsp; Locked.&nbsp; He checked the bathroom.&nbsp; Nothing.&nbsp; He checked the coat closet.&nbsp; Nothing.&nbsp; He checked Lucas and Adelaide's bedroom.&nbsp; Nothing.&nbsp; <em>She would hide in our old room,</em> he thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As he crept up the stairs, the scent of Manic Panic seemed to grow stronger.&nbsp; At the top, the mannequin eyeballed him like a vigilant sentinel, and he half expected it to call out a warning to Elise.&nbsp; As he snuck to the door of his old room, the floorboard in front of the door squeaked.&nbsp; <em>Shit!</em>&nbsp; he thought.&nbsp; He stood motionless for a moment and listened for her movement, but he heard nothing.&nbsp; He threw open the door, certain she would lunge for him, but she didn't.&nbsp; He checked everywhere, but no monster lurked in the closet or under the bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He had to walk past the creepy mannequin again to check the library, but found it empty.&nbsp; Satisfied that Elise wasn't hiding in the shadows, he breathed a sigh of relief.&nbsp; As he returned to the stairwell, he again felt as if he were being watched, as if he were not alone, but he foolishly wrote it off to an overactive imagination and made a fatal mistake; he turned his back to the mannequin and began to descend.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As he took his first step, the mannequin took its own.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He stopped.&nbsp; <em>Was that a footstep behind me?</em>&nbsp; he thought.&nbsp; He spun around to look.&nbsp; The mannequin seemed a bit closer than it should be, but his mind wouldn't accept what his eyes could see.&nbsp; He dismissed the internal warning, and continued his descent, each step he took towards the bottom mirrored by the golem.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">At the bottom of the stairs, he went straight to the front door to check the locks again.&nbsp; The golem used the opportunity to slip into the shadows of the master bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The silence of the house weighed heavily upon Bill, and when the teakettle whistled, he nearly jumped from his skin.&nbsp; He made himself a cup of Chamomile, sat down on the sofa, and used the remote to unmute the news.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">"This just in," the news lady said, "the third escapee from the High County Women's Correctional Facility has been caught at the Greyhound bus depot.&nbsp; She has been identified as Kay Myrium Young, the woman who three years ago to this day woke her children in the middle of the night, drove them to Wal-Mart and made them pick out the baseball bat that she then used to beat them to death."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Morpheus scratched frantically at the window. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill went to the front door to let the cat inside.&nbsp; He didn't notice that the locks on the door had been unlocked.&nbsp; He flung the door open.&nbsp; "Come on, Morpheus, it's cold outside," he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">He turned white as a ghost.&nbsp; The thing on the doorstep could not be.&nbsp; His mind cried out in terror, but his voice betrayed him.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The golem had slipped out the front door, mimicked the cat to lure him out, and now stood before him.&nbsp; Elise's hate bore through the golem's glowing eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">Bill tried to run, but his legs turned to jelly.&nbsp; Petrified, he couldn’t move.&nbsp; Hot piss soaked his pants.</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">The golem lunged at him, sank its fangs into his neck, and ripped out a scream.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 150%;">As Bill lay dying, his thoughts turned to Ava, who was now more than just a grotesquery; she was also alone.&nbsp; Her precious vomit face faded from his mind as the golem emptied his veins.&nbsp; He should have left Elise the first time she hit him.&nbsp; Now, he was hers, forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;"><br /></div>Gori Suturehttps://plus.google.com/109931520288832797530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3841190035677879188.post-19532772905367910362017-10-19T10:16:00.001-04:002018-02-08T15:25:31.927-05:00Last Halloween<br /><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" o:spt="75" o:preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"> <v:stroke joinstyle="miter"/> <v:formulas> <v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"/> <v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"/> <v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"/> <v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"/> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"/> <v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"/> <v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"/> <v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"/> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"/> <v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"/> <v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"/> <v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"/> </v:formulas> <v:path o:extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" o:connecttype="rect"/> <o:lock v:ext="edit" aspectratio="t"/></v:shapetype><v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="" style='width:270pt; height:351pt'> <v:imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\Kari\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.jpg" o:href="http://usera.imagecave.com/gori/LastHalloweenheader.jpg"/></v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xQG9jsH4ZC4/WeiyBpZSqRI/AAAAAAAAMsQ/I_WdB2NRQm0Uy-EpzuJqe3qanirrFxYIQCLcBGAs/s1600/Gori_Suture_Last_Halloween_header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="A gas mask in front of a glowing pentagram." border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="482" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xQG9jsH4ZC4/WeiyBpZSqRI/AAAAAAAAMsQ/I_WdB2NRQm0Uy-EpzuJqe3qanirrFxYIQCLcBGAs/s1600/Gori_Suture_Last_Halloween_header.jpg" title="Gori Suture's Last Halloween" /></a></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Last Halloween</span><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /><!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Bone chilling rain misted down upon the Oldsmobile 442.&nbsp; Thick fog made the curvy mountain road even more treacherous for Scot to navigate the foursome to their sacred place.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The rock-and-roll on the radio gave way to static, so Louise, who was riding shotgun, fingered the dial. &nbsp;Finding nothing on the FM, she switched over to AM to listen to the news.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"The debate still rages over whether or not it is safe to incinerate some 47 million pounds of chemical weapons, 850 of which are known to be leaking.&nbsp; Last month, the waste, including Nerve Agents and Mustard Gas, was shipped to an Army Depot located just three miles outside of Tobacco City, when a heated debate broke out over the proper process controls to destroy the stockpile in a safe, environmental manner. &nbsp;In other news, five hundred and fifteen soldiers have died since President G. W. Shrubs Junior declared the war in the Middle East over last May."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Junior had not actually won the 2000 election to rule the United States of Americorp. &nbsp;His brother, Governor of Wrinklida, rigged the election so that African Americans couldn't vote because black folks remembered how bad things were under the rule of Shrubs Senior and would never vote for a chip off the old block.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Shrubs Senior, or "Pops" to his friends and family, was former head of the CIA and orchestrated the 1963 assassination of President John Denakee, a beloved humanitarian with the people's best interest at heart.&nbsp; Then Pops got himself elected as Vice President. &nbsp;The President at the time, a former Hollywood actor named Mr. Zombie, had a disease called Swiss Cheese of the Brain, and Pops found him to be extraordinarily easy to control.&nbsp; Soon, Pops decided he'd had enough of playing puppet master. &nbsp;He pulled his hand from Mr. Zombie's rear end and ruled the land as himself.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">After awhile, he grew bored and needed more for his power fix. &nbsp;He decided to put his fingers in the Middle East pie because they had so much of Mother Earth's blood, and he had so little. &nbsp;He armed them first, as any southern gentleman would. &nbsp;He waited, and when they used their arms against a small neighboring country, Pops cried war and quickly overran his new playmate.&nbsp; At last, he felt powerful again! &nbsp;He told his playmate's disheartened people to trust him, encouraged them to take up arms against their King. &nbsp;Knowing their King would slay them for tyranny, he abandoned them and, with glee, watched what he had caused.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Pops lost the next election to a slick talking donkey named Willie, but it didn't take long for him to regain control. &nbsp;No one suspected, but in 1998 Pops blackmailed Willie with video footage of a sex scandal involving Willie and Junior's underage daughter, Laura Shrubs. &nbsp;Pops made his agenda clear, so Willie grabbed his saxophone and played Americorp the sweetest lullaby before signing H.R. 4655 into law, which instituted a policy of regime change against Pops's old playmate in the Middle East.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">When Junior found the video tape, he got hot headed and demanded Pops get Willie impeached. &nbsp;Pops almost did, but at the last minute Junior accepted his dad's offer of the next presidency if he'd just let it go.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Junior's opponent, Greg Allen, recognized not only the ploy against the African American vote, but also that the vote count was corrupted in general. &nbsp;He demanded a re-count by hand, including the absentee ballots.&nbsp; Pops had his friend I. Judge put a stop to all the challenges, and thus Junior became President as promised.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The media, not easily satisfied, decided that even though it didn't matter anymore, they would recount the vote anyway. &nbsp;It turned out that, even with all that racist cheating, Junior still hadn't won the election.&nbsp; The people of Americorp were infuriated when they realized voting had become such a hoax.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The people's unrest frightened Junior.&nbsp; He called Pops, who decided slide of hand to be the only recourse.&nbsp; Pops called his brown friend Ben and arranged a fireworks display on a scale far grander than any other Americorp had ever seen.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Junior responded with his own fireworks display in the Middle East. &nbsp;The average Americorpse became so terrified of fireworks, they forgot all about the stolen election.&nbsp; Junior declared the war won soon thereafter.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The days turned to weeks as the blood slowly seeped.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Louise? &nbsp;Are you listening to me?"&nbsp; Scot said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Sorry.&nbsp; I was just thinking."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"What about?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"That whistle ass Shrubs. &nbsp;He's gonna get us all killed."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Paris and Veronica were cuddling like new lovers in the back seat, when Veronica suddenly lurched forwards. &nbsp;"Stop at the store!" she yelled in Scot's ear. &nbsp;"I wanna slushie!"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Scot docked his boat of a car and everyone disembarked.&nbsp; Americorp propaganda covered the storefront, as if to say, "Please don't hate us." &nbsp;Eight dark eyes watched the Americorpses fill their cups with cherry gluttony.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"It makes sense if you think about it," Scot said, operating the slushy machine like a seasoned professional.&nbsp; "Let's say I'm Satan, right, and the world is mine to tempt as I choose.&nbsp; My plan would be simple.&nbsp; I would take God's divine words and twist them ever so slightly through hundreds of years of translations until they become a lie. &nbsp;Look how many followers I'd have, and they wouldn't even know it. &nbsp;Think how many wars have been fought in God's name, and really Satan's the one reaping the rewards."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"That would so freak with my mom," Louise said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">They walked up to the counter to pay for their slushies.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Tahir" was written on the nametag of the cashier.&nbsp; "You are going to a happy Halloween party then, I presume," he said with a thick accent.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The way Tahir's mustache wiggled as he spoke reminded Louise of a woolly worm. &nbsp;She watched it intently, trying hopelessly to predict the upcoming winter.&nbsp; A chill ran up her spine.&nbsp; "No, why?" she asked.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"You wear costumes, yes?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"No, this is how we always dress," Louise said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"I understand.&nbsp; It is Marylyn Manson you are wishing to be like.&nbsp; It will be thirteen dollars even, my friend."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Thirteen dollars!" &nbsp;Louise exclaimed.&nbsp; "What's it made of, frozen suicide bombers?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Scot dragged Louise out of the store while Veronica paid for the slushies and apologized.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Damn Louise, that was cold."&nbsp; Scot said, laughing.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"He said I like Marylyn Manson! &nbsp;Fuck him!"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The radio came to life as Scot started the car.&nbsp; "Still no word on the plane that disappeared from an airport in Africa thirteen days ago --"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Think they've got enough employees?"&nbsp; Veronica said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Damn, it probably takes four of 'em to feel safe enough to keep the place open," Paris said.&nbsp; "I can't believe you said that, Louise."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Yeah, neither could he.&nbsp; Did you see the look on his face?"&nbsp; Scot asked. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Absolute terror," Paris said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Absolute terrorist!"&nbsp; Louise said, laughing.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">A few miles down the road, Scot slammed on his brakes. &nbsp;The car skidded and then jerked to a stop. &nbsp;"Damn, I missed the turn!" &nbsp;He backed up, and then turned onto an overgrown, dirt road. &nbsp;Tree branches slapped the windshield as he forced the car through the foliage.&nbsp; He stopped at a small clearing, where his ancestors lay buried beneath crumbling gravestones.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">They got out of the car. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Clouds obscured the heavens.&nbsp; The darkness was absolute without a sliver of radiant light.&nbsp; Fog swirled about them as if the Spirit of the Forest had come to witness their most sacred right.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"This place gives me the creeps," Veronica said.&nbsp; A noise came from the shadows, a disassociated voice, deep and demonic, followed by the beating of large wings.&nbsp; She spun around in the general direction of the sound and strained her eyes against the opaque night. &nbsp;"What was that?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Just a hoot owl.&nbsp; Relax," Scot said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Paris opened the trunk and retrieved his supplies.&nbsp; He poured a mixture of salt and herbs around the graveyard's perimeter.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Scot built a fire in an open space between his great grandmother and great, great uncle.&nbsp; He leaned in close and gave his breath to the small flame.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Paris cut a pentagram into the sludgy ground with a handmade sword, a gift given for just this occasion. &nbsp;He topped the pentagram with eight candles, alternating black and white, to shape infinity.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Help me with this," Veronica said to Louise as she struggled against the wind to spread a lace cloth across a large, flat stone.&nbsp; The girls then sprinkled fresh red rose petals all over it, and placed a statue of Oshun in the center.&nbsp; Veronica set out four red candles as Louise filled five goblets with a mixture of equal parts Kava Kava and wine.&nbsp; She then set out five fair portions of space cakes and psilocybin mushrooms.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The flame finally flared, causing the wet gravestones to glisten with flickering firelight.&nbsp; As the wind blew, big fat drops of ice-cold water rained down from the treetops.&nbsp; Limbs snapped, sounding as if myriad undead awaited hungry for brains just outside the graveyard.&nbsp; A shrill scream filled the air, sounding like a terrified baby, its voice invoking images of a night hag or banshee.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"That was not a fucking owl!" &nbsp;Veronica said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"That was just a mountain lion.&nbsp; Nothing to worry about," Scot said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Oh yeah, knowing that puts my mind right at ease."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Let it begin!"&nbsp; Paris said. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Here comes the shrinky dink!"&nbsp; Scot said as they all disrobed into the freezing cold.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"In the flickering firelight, beneath the bereaved and blackened sky, before the witness of our fallen ancestors, and the blessing of all deities of love, we four become one," Scot proclaimed, and they clinked their goblets together, giving the fifth glass to Oshun.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">They each pulled strands of hair from their heads and tied them all together, then buried them inside the sludge drawn pentagram.&nbsp; They ate their cakes and shrooms, giving the fifth to Oshun.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">They tingled as old spirits filled them.&nbsp; They danced and chanted, conjuring up images within the fire of vines twisting together, becoming one, becoming nothing.&nbsp; They gave sacrifices of their own blood and fornicated in the mud.&nbsp; They no longer spoke with voices, but with their mind's eyes and "Without fear!" was what they chanted. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The following day, Louise awoke around noon. &nbsp;As she made a pot of coffee, she noticed a trail of tiny, black ants traipsing back and forth across the countertop.&nbsp; One ant met another, and stopped as if to chat, then changed its course, going back from whither it came.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">She poured four cups of coffee, adding sugar and hazelnut nondairy creamer.&nbsp; Dead ants floated to the top of each cup.&nbsp; "Fuck me," she mumbled to herself.&nbsp; She poured out the bad coffee, and then put on a fresh pot to brew.&nbsp; She checked the sugar, but found it clear.&nbsp; The nondairy creamer, however, had proven to be a death trap.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Louise wet a dishrag.&nbsp; She hesitated for a moment, and then wiped up as many ants as she could.&nbsp; She rinsed their little bodies down the sink drain.&nbsp; She felt the pitter-patter of petite feet as an ant scurried across her hand.&nbsp; She started to smoosh it but couldn't.&nbsp; She set it safely down on the counter top instead.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">She poured four more cups of coffee.&nbsp; An ant climbed across the rim of one of the cups.&nbsp; Louise sighed, and then pulled a bottle of ant poison from underneath the sink.&nbsp; She put a dab of the poisoned syrup onto a piece of cardboard and left if for the ants to eat.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">For a moment, she thought she understood how Dali must have felt.&nbsp; "Hey guys, coffee!" she yelled.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">As they sipped their coffee together, Louise felt truly happy.&nbsp; She had fantasized about having a four-way marriage for years.&nbsp; She hated to be alone, and one person could never give her all the attention she demanded.&nbsp; She was a prima donna with implicit taste, and it had taken her years to select her three perfect mates.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">After the foursome finished their brew, they went shopping for Halloween costumes.&nbsp; They returned to get ready for a big party at Stygian Playground, a former cathedral turned cabaret.&nbsp; Located just outside the city limits, next to the Army Depot, everyone knew it for its wild parties, illegalities, and general debauchery.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Scot dressed as a pirate, and couldn't stop himself from telling bad pirate jokes.&nbsp; "Why did the pirates get a divorce?" &nbsp;he said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"I don't know, Scot, why?"&nbsp; Veronica humored him.&nbsp; She had dressed up like Sally from <i>The Nightmare Before Christmas</i>.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"They arrrrrrrrrrrrrgued," Scot said.&nbsp; "What did the pirates say when the world blew up?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"I don't know, Scot, what?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"It's arrrrrrrrrrrrrmagedon!"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Paris had found an excellent Phantom of the Opera costume at the Halloween store in the mall. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Louise knew she wanted to be Lily Munster, but those costumes had already sold out.&nbsp; Disappointed, she had left with nothing.&nbsp; Now she tore the house apart trying to think of something to wear.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"I know what you can be," Scot said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"What?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Put on my gas mask and chemical resistant gear and go as someone from the arrrrrrrrrrrrrmy."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"What a great idea," Louise said.&nbsp; She dashed upstairs to get it.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The party raged by the time the four arrived.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Fart!&nbsp; Fart! &nbsp;Fart!" went the gas mask as Louise got her over twenty-one wristband.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"I'm gonna get a beer," Veronica said.&nbsp; "Anybody else want one?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"If you don't mind," Scot said.&nbsp; "Are you all right in that thing, Louise?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"I'm okay," Louise said, her voice sounding as an echo escaping from a tin can.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">On stage, GWAR threw buckets of blood on the audience.&nbsp; The audience jumped up and down while yelling, "Blood! &nbsp;Blood!"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Veronica returned with the beers.&nbsp; "It's awfully smoky in here, "she said. "&nbsp; Let's step out for some air."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Outside, they found two of their friends, Seth and Keith, smoking a blunt. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Hey guys, what's up?&nbsp; You guys wanna hit this?"&nbsp; Keith said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Arrrrrg!" &nbsp;Scot said, taking the blunt.&nbsp; He took three tokes, and passed to Louise.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Louise took off her gas mask to smoke.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Wow, Louise, that's some crazy get up you got there," Keith said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Scot's crazy brother gave it to him," Louise said, smoke curling from her lips.&nbsp; She passed off to Veronica, and put the gas mask back on.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Scot has a crazy brother?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Yeah. &nbsp;He's got Gulf War syndrome.&nbsp; He thinks the world's about to end."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"So it works?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Oh, yeah.&nbsp; He gave him a whole shitload of canisters, too."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"What the fuck are you supposed to be?"&nbsp; Seth asked Veronica as she took her turn on the blunt.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"I'm Sally."<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Sally? &nbsp;Sally Jessie Raphael?"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Sally from <i>The Nightmare Before Christmas</i>, dumbass."&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">A noise like a speeding freight train intensified.&nbsp; "What's that noise?" &nbsp;Paris asked.&nbsp; The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and a shiver ran down his spine, as if someone had just walked across his grave.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Sounds like an airplane," Keith said, craning his head to look at the sky.&nbsp; "There it is!"<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Should it be so low?"&nbsp; Veronica asked.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"Airports not far," Scot said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">"That's too low.&nbsp; Something's not right," Paris said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">The windows rattled as the airplane passed overhead.&nbsp; "Oh my God!" &nbsp;Veronica screamed, but the roar of the engine drowned out her voice.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Horrific noises filled the night, sounding as if a tractor-trailer fell from an overpass, thudded onto a busy highway, and started a multi car pile-up.&nbsp; Sounds of grinding, crunching metal, tearing steal, screams of terror, and finally, the tremulous boom of an explosion resounded. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Outside Stygian Playground, the force of the explosion knocked everyone down to the ground.&nbsp; The stained glass windows imploded.&nbsp; Everything went black, making the stars twinkle more brilliant than before.&nbsp; People screamed in panic.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">As Louise stood up, she could see flames shooting up from the Army Depot.&nbsp; "Let's get inside," she said, helping Scot up. &nbsp;His eyes were full of tears. &nbsp;His once handsome face blistered.&nbsp; "Oh my god!&nbsp; What's wrong?" she yelled.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Scot gasped for breath. &nbsp;He fell down and vomited a grayish slime, then jerked with convulsions like a cockroach after a bug bomb.&nbsp; Blood poured from his mouth and nose.&nbsp; Wide eyed, he stared at nothing.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Louise looked to Paris for help, but he and Veronica had fallen down on top of one another.&nbsp; Their fingers were grotesquely twisted, and their eyes had sunk deep into the sockets.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">Louise couldn't believe what was happening.&nbsp; It seemed so surreal, like a nightmare, a bad trip, a trick of the mind.&nbsp; Her biggest fear, of being alone, realized in this moment.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="defaulttext" style="line-height: 150%; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">All around her the moans and screams stopped, giving way to an eerie silence, broken only by the rhythmic farting of an unwanted gas mask.<o:p></o:p></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Gori Suturehttps://plus.google.com/109931520288832797530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3841190035677879188.post-6597192034793665712017-10-18T18:01:00.000-04:002018-02-08T15:27:35.889-05:00Punkin'<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VD9WDyLjoNI/WeisD8DfhbI/AAAAAAAAMsA/u0tHZtVBkq0C--KbAG2F2ByemFGXs8--gCLcBGAs/s1600/Gori_Suture_Punkin_Header.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Picture of a scarecrow with a pumpkin head." border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VD9WDyLjoNI/WeisD8DfhbI/AAAAAAAAMsA/u0tHZtVBkq0C--KbAG2F2ByemFGXs8--gCLcBGAs/s1600/Gori_Suture_Punkin_Header.jpg" title="Gori Suture's Punkin'" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Punkin'<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Maynard sat on the sofa, curled up against the backrest with his face half buried in the cushions.&nbsp; He didn't say much.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki stared at him.&nbsp; She wondered why she hadn't noticed before that Maynard sort of looked like a turtle.&nbsp; She kept thinking that his nose looked funny tonight and his feet seemed bigger than before.&nbsp; His shoes were hip-hop raver, kind of funny looking, but it didn't matter.&nbsp; She wanted to touch him, just to see if his skin felt cold or warm.&nbsp; She lit two cigarettes and gave one to Maynard.&nbsp; It hung on his lower lip as if he were a musician playing the blues.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I like your shoes," Nikki said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Thanks.&nbsp; My mom bought 'em for me."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki had been chasing after this boy forever, and now that she had caught him, she didn't quite know what to do with him.&nbsp; She blew three perfect rings of smoke.&nbsp; "You wanna have sex?" she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Maynard shrugged his shoulders.&nbsp; "I don't know if it'd be right -- given the circumstances and all."&nbsp; Maynard's girlfriend had died in a car wreck the month before.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki said, "I remember when my friend Paul died.&nbsp; I mean, I didn't know him that well.&nbsp; He was kind of nice to me in high school and all.&nbsp; I hadn't talked to him in years.&nbsp; Nobody told me he died 'til the next spring, and it made me think.&nbsp; It's kind of creepy, ya know?"&nbsp; Maynard looked like a lost little boy, wet eyed and distant, and she thought maybe she'd said the wrong thing.&nbsp; "I guess it's not the same."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"It's okay.&nbsp; She was cruel to me anyway," he said. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For the briefest of moments, disillusionment gave way to unobstructed truth, and Nikki remembered that Maynard wasn't Maynard at all.&nbsp; The real Maynard lay naked inside a shallow grave within her earthen cellar, with her studded leather belt wrapped tightly around his neck.&nbsp; She had stuffed the clothes he had died in with hay, and then sprayed them with CK-1, his brand of cologne.&nbsp; She had given him a jack-o-lantern for a head.&nbsp; She had scalped him and hot glued his hair to the top of the pumpkin.&nbsp; She had spooned out his eyeballs, stuck them on toothpicks, and then inserted them into the jack-o-lantern’s triangle eye sockets.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"No.&nbsp; I'm the cruel one," Nikki said.&nbsp; "I don't know what happened.&nbsp; I just kept thinking about how beautiful you are and how good you would look with blue skin and lips, and, and things just got crazy.&nbsp; Look, I'm sorry.&nbsp; I'm sorry.&nbsp; I love you, Punkin'," she said and kissed Maynard on the cheek. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki looked at her watch.&nbsp; "Oh goodness!&nbsp; We are going to be late.&nbsp; I've still gotta put my costume on!"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">*&nbsp; *&nbsp; *<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The intoxication of the Halloween crowd spilled out the club walls in whoops and hollers by the time Nikki and Maynard arrived.&nbsp; A local band massacred the Electric Hellfire Club's 'Mr. 44' on a small stage.&nbsp; Nikki dragged Maynard through a host of costumed fools stumbling and fondling one another to a sofa in a dark corner.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A young black man, dressed like a French whore complete with wig and make-up, plopped down on the sofa next to Nikki.&nbsp; In a bad French accent, he said, "Oh!&nbsp; Hello, hello!&nbsp; Let me introduce myself," he said.&nbsp; "I am Claire Nin de la Soufflé.&nbsp; I'm not a drag queen, but I am bisexual.&nbsp; I mean, I could be a girl, but it's just not in my plan for life.&nbsp; Oh, I'm losing my accent 'cause I'm really drunk.&nbsp; What are you supposed to be?"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I’m myself," Nikki said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Oh.&nbsp; Are you one of those little gothies?&nbsp; I have a friend who's into that.&nbsp; Maybe you know him.&nbsp; His name is Maynard.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Of course I know him.&nbsp; He's my date," she snuggled into the scarecrow beside her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Maynard?&nbsp; I know Maynard well.&nbsp; He is my best friend.&nbsp; Hello, Maynard.&nbsp; I like your costume.&nbsp; It's good.&nbsp; I didn't even recognize you."&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Maynard's pumpkin head wobbled a little.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"He's really drunk," Nikki said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“Let me tell you, I was into that goth thing for a while," Claire said.&nbsp; "I used to wear all the black and talk about death, but it just wasn't in my heart, so I couldn't do it.&nbsp; And you know, I think to be truly gothic you just sit in a dark room all day and listen to The Cure and cry.&nbsp; It doesn't have nothing to do with fashion at all or nothing else.&nbsp; Oh!&nbsp; And Maynard here, let me tell you, that boy's gonna just grow out of it.&nbsp; You see, I think the only reason you're goth is if you have bad sex 'cause when I was goth, all I had was bad sex and I mean, I thought it was good at the time and all, but let me tell you it wasn't.&nbsp; As soon as Maynard gets good sex he's not gonna be gothic no more either."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki stood up.&nbsp; "On that note, I think I need a drink," she said.&nbsp; She cocked her finger like a gun.&nbsp; She pretended to shoot Claire and then winked at him and walked away.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When she returned with a couple of Pabst Blue Ribbons, Claire had left.&nbsp; A girl dressed like Raggedy Ann had sat down next to Maynard.&nbsp; Her hand rested on his crotch.&nbsp; Nikki flushed with jealousy.&nbsp; "Bitch!&nbsp; You better back up off my man!"&nbsp; she said. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Whatever. &nbsp;I've had him.&nbsp; He ain't all that."&nbsp; The girl got up and walked away.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki plopped down on the sofa.&nbsp; "She must have been some of that bad sex Claire was talking about," she said.&nbsp;&nbsp;She leaned over and kissed Maynard, running her tongue inside his pumpkin mouth, tasting the drying pumpkin guts.&nbsp; The pumpkin proved to be a better kisser than Maynard's corpse had been.&nbsp; She snuggled against his musty form.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A can of Raid approached the lovebirds.&nbsp; "Hey Maynard, nice costume," a familiar voice said.&nbsp;&nbsp;He toked a joint, and blew the smoke out like a fume of bug spray.&nbsp; "You want a hit?" he said and put the joint up to Maynard's pumpkin mouth. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The jack-o-lantern rolled off and landed face up in the scarecrow's lap.&nbsp; Nikki's mouth gaped.&nbsp; "Oh my God!" she screamed.&nbsp; She grabbed Maynard's head and recapitated him.&nbsp;&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Maynard, dude man that was cool.&nbsp; How'd you do that?&nbsp; Do it again!" the can of Raid said, putting the joint against Maynard's jagged smile.&nbsp; His head rolled off again.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki smiled.&nbsp; "Isn't he so cool," she said, retrieving the head.&nbsp; "Can I hit that joint?"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Oh yeah, yeah," the Raid said, passing her the weed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">She vigorously toked and then held her breath until her face turned red, and she had to exhale.&nbsp; Then she took another and gave Maynard a shotgun.&nbsp; The smoke rolled out of his holes, swirling about the gouged out eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"You guys wanna shoot a game of pool?" the Raid said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Sure.&nbsp; Help me get Maynard over to the tables.&nbsp; He's too wasted to walk."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">&nbsp;Moments later, Nikki leaned across the pool table, her black hair hued amber from the Miller light dangling from a chain above the table.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Maynard didn't play, but instead just sat there in the corner watching Nikki like a classic man watches Marilyn at a late night film festival.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Did you have any trick-or-treaters this year?" the can of Raid asked as he scratched the ball.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"No," Nikki said, sinking the last of her stripes.&nbsp; "All my neighbors think I'm weird."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"We just had one kid.&nbsp; My mate and I had rigged up a walkie-talkie inside a jack-o-lantern and left a bowl out there, you know.&nbsp; We figured we'd peek out the curtains and watch and when the kids came to the door we'd say 'one piece each,'" the can of Raid spoke in a guttural voice.&nbsp; "So we smoke some dro, and you know, we were feeling good when the first kid arrived.&nbsp; And it was the retard from across the street, so we thought, this shit is gonna be hysterical.&nbsp; The 'tard, man, he freaked out, and he grabbed the jack-o-lantern and put it up over his head and smashed it on the porch.&nbsp; He grabbed the whole fuckin' bowl of candy and ran off down the street."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Side pocket," she said, pointing at the hole on her left.&nbsp; She pulled back and then thrust the stick forwards with a smooth stroke, running the eight ball to its predicated destination.&nbsp; She turned around and realized she had run the cue into Maynard's nose and decapitated him again.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Oops!"&nbsp; she said, and collected the head, again.&nbsp; "I think Maynard's getting tired.&nbsp; Perhaps we should go."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Here's your twenty dollars," the Raid said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki shoved the money in her pocket, scooped up her scarecrow lover, and dragged him out the door.&nbsp; As she crossed the parking lot, she lost her grip and dropped him.&nbsp; She heard the screeching of tires.&nbsp; "Nooooooooo!"&nbsp; she screamed as, with a KATHUMP, a tire rolled over Maynard's head, disintegrating it into a pile of orange mush.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cigarette in hand, Claire got out of the car.&nbsp; "Oh no, oh no!"&nbsp; He fell to his knees, cradling Maynard's body.&nbsp; "I shouldn't have been driving drunk!&nbsp; I've killed my best friend."&nbsp; Just then, the cherry fell off the cigarette and into the hay stuffed clothing, and Maynard's body burst into flames.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nikki laid her hand on Claire’s shoulder.&nbsp; "It's okay, Claire.&nbsp; I won't tell," she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Larry."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"What?"<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"My name is Larry.&nbsp; Claire was a joke."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Larry, why don't you come with me back to my place?&nbsp; I'll make you forget all about poor Maynard." <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Yeah, okay.&nbsp; I need to get out of here before the cops come.&nbsp; Maybe I'll lay low at your place for a while."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><span style="font-family: &quot;arial&quot; , &quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The light glinted off Larry's face in a curious manner.&nbsp; "You know," Nikki said, "the shape of your head kind of reminds me of a zucchini."<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"><br /></div>Gori Suturehttps://plus.google.com/109931520288832797530noreply@blogger.com0